18
by valjanex
Summary: Isabella Swan has the perfect life - perfect boyfriend, perfect friends, perfect family. But on her eighteenth birthday an unexpected birthday present is going to change everything. All Human. R&R.


**Disclaimer: **As always, I do not own Twilight. But I am determined to own a Taylor Lautner for my birthday. Yummy. ;)

My alarm clock roared next to me. I groaned. Monday. But it wasn't just Monday, it was also my eighteenth birthday. Ugh. I hate birthdays. Especially mine. There was a knock at the door.

"Rise and shine, Sunshine." Charlie says. I groan again, take my pillow, and bury my face it in. "C'mon Bells. You have school today." I turn my head and open my eyes. Charlie is sitting on my bed with a little red book with a lock in his hands.

"I thought I said no gifts." I say coldly, glaring at him.

"I know…" Well, why did you get me one then?! "But this isn't from me… This is… From your mother."

Is that some kind of sick joke?

He sighs and slides it over to me.

"What?" I squeak, looking down at the glossy leather cover. "B-But she's dead. That's impossible! Th-That's-"

"Bella." Charlie stops me with a hint to his voice that I've never heard him use before. "There's something you should know." He gets up and moves closer to me. He hesitates then grabs my and holds it. What's going on?

"What?" I whisper, scanning his eyes for some sort of hint. There's nothing.

For a split second, I think he's going to cry. I've never seen Charlie ever come anything close to crying in my whole life. "Bella… Your mother… She's not… She's not really… Dead."

He's kidding.

"Dad, that's not funny." How can he joke about something like that?

"I'm not kidding, Bella. She's alive… I just never-"

"Told me? Why… Why would you lie to me about something like that?! H-How could you… My own mother." Tears fill my eyes. "Why?"

"Bella, I only did it to protect you." He says in a serious tone like he does when he's dealing with official police business.

"Protect me? From what? Seriously, Dad… I never thought you out of all people would lie to me. Ever."

He sighs and a single tear rolls down his cheek. I feel a little bad at first but then I remind myself that he was the one who lied to me in the first place. He nudges the red book closer to me and it jabs me in the knee. "Read it." He whispers before he gets up and leaves the room.

I cautiously open it up to see pretty cursive writing sprawled on the first place.

_My Dearest Izzy,_

_You're eighteen today!!! I wish I was there to see you turn into an adult.  
What you're currently reading from is a diary that's been passed down for generations.  
And now it is your turn._

_So go ahead! Record your crazy thoughts, desires, and experiences in here._

_Hopefully one day your father will let you see me so I can hear them._

_Please know that I love you very much and I think of you each and every day that passes._

_Love, Mama._

A wave of emotions overwhelmed me. I slammed the book close and let out loud sobs. Why wouldn't Charlie let me see her?! Why did he tell me she was dead?! DEAD! WHY?!

"Bells…" I hear Charlie say.

"NO!" I yell at him. "HOW COULD YOU?! ALL THESE YEARS?! I'VE THOUGHT MY MOTHER WAS DEAD FOR EIGHTEEN YEARS! EIGHTEEN! WHY?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT'S BEEN GROWING UP WITHOUT A MOTHER TO TURN TO FOR ADVICE?!"

"You had me," He says. "You can tell me absolutely anything, Bella."

"It's different." I sniff and wipe away tears.

"I understand."

"NO YOU DON'T! DID YOUR FATHER TELL YOU YOUR MOTHER WAS DEAD, HUH?! NO, HE DIDN'T. I CAN'T STAND YOU!"

"ISABELLA MARIE!" Charlie yells.

"DON'T YOU ISABELLA MARIE ME! YOU LIED TO ME! HOW DO I KNOW A SINGLE THING YOU EVER SAY IS TRUE?!"

Charlie doesn't say anything. He just breathes. His breathing sounds like an angry bull.

I am the first to break the uncomfortable silence. "I can tell you anything, huh?"

"Of course." Charlie says.

"Well let me tell you this; I. Hate. You."

I hear Charlie take a sharp intake of breath. "Isabella…"

"Go." I glare at the air in front of me.

"Bella please, just let me explain." Charlie pleads.

"I SAID GO!" I scream, pointing at the door.

Charlie presses his lips together, and then lowers his head in shame and exits.

Once he's long gone, I stuff my head back in my pillow and start crying again.

I don't know how long exactly I sat there crying, but long enough that I missed the entire school day and then some. Not that I would've gone, anyway. I would've just cut if Daddy Dearest forced me to go. There was no way in hell I would go to school after all this.

Some birthday.

I eye the ancient diary that I had thrown against the wall. I gathered myself and picked it back up. I opened up to a random page and wrote:

_Dear… Mom,_

_I just wanted you to know that I didn't know you were alive._

_Daddy Dearest told me you were dead._

_Says he did it to 'protect' me._

_Complete and utter bull, I know._

_I will meet you, no matter what._

_-Bella Swan._

I tear out the page and stick it in an envelope that I only use for special mail. This was special. I label it:

_Mommy Swan_

_Somewhere not here and somewhere that's neither heaven nor hell, Planet Earth._

I know she won't get it but I don't care. I hustle down the stairs and find that Daddy Dearest is not home.

I can't believe he would go to work.

I slide on my jacket and stuff the letter in the mail.

I hope Charlie reads it.

I hope it makes him cry.

I hate him.

When Charlie gets home I am waiting for him with my arms crossed and a cold expression on my face.

I feel more like his wife than his daughter.

"Isabella…" Charlie says warily. He tries to get around me. I grab his arm with more strength than I knew I had.

"We're discussing this. Now."

"There's nothing to say."

"THERE IS A LOT TO SAY!" I yell. I've never yelled at someone so much in my life.

I hate him.

"Okay then. You start."

"I want to see her. I want to meet her. I want to talk to her. And I want to live with her for senior year."

"Absolutely not."

"Absolutely yes. You've kept my mother from me for eighteen years; I deserve at least one year with her. Just one. And then you can keep me as your prisoner in this dreary little town all you want."

"I don't want you as my prisoner, Bella. I want you as my daughter."

"And I am. And I'm hers, to."

"Actually – I got custody of you when you were three-"

I don't want to hear it. "She's the woman who gave birth to me. I want to meet her and I will meet her whether you want me to or not. I'm a legal adult now. You can't stop me."

He looks like I slapped him across the face. He gulps. "Okay… Let me, um, run it by her and her lawyer first."

He walks away and this time I don't stop him.

I'm going to meet my mother.

Finally.

I follow him into his bedroom. "What's her name?"

"Elizabeth." He says while opening various drawers and shuffling through scattered papers.

"Is she married?"

"I don't know." He picks up a paper, scans it, and then throws it aside.

"Does she have any kids?" I sit on his unmade bed.

"I. Don't. Know."

"Well, you just have all the answers, don't you?"

He sighs. "We haven't exactly been involved in each other's life for a while now, Isabella."

"Yeah, and whose fault was that?"

He looks at me. "Hers."

It gets a quiet again.

I hate quiet right now.

I hate him.

I hate his house.

I hate everything.

Except my mom.

I don't hate Elizabeth.

This wasn't her fault.

"Well, what was the last you heard?"

"The last I heard she was married to a rich baseball player named Phil. See, Elizabeth, she's all about money. That's why she left me. The second I lost my job, she left with the little money I had."

Yeah, right.

"I hardly believe that."

He glares at me. "You calling me a liar?"

"Yes."

He looks uneasy. "I found it." He whispers.

"What were you looking for?" I ask.

"Oh just some papers. Nothing you need to worry about." He goes over to his computer and starts typing away.

I walk over and snatch the papers off his desk.

"Isabella!" Charlie yelled, sounding panicked.

I run over to his bed with the papers.

I don't get to read much before he gets them back from me. Only enough to figure out they were divorce files.

"Those aren't yours." Charlie's voice lowered.

I shrug. "So?"

"So you shouldn't have stolen them from me like that!"

"Whatever."

I get up again and soundlessly read over his shoulder. He's writing an email to Elizabeth and another to a guy named Andy. He hears me breathing and turns around and faces me, covering the screen so I can't read. He crosses his arms. It only makes me more curious as to what he's writing.

I get the message and walk back over to his disgusting, stained bed.

His room stinks like… His room stinks like him. He smells nasty.

I pretend its Elizabeth's house. I bet her house smells well. Better than this. The imaginary smell almost makes my mouth water.

The smell of Elizabeth.

The smell of my mom.

I'm going to meet my mom.

**A/N:** Like it? Love it? Hate it? Tell me what you think! Review! Oh, and thank you to the amazing Julie for betaing.


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